


What Are You Doing New Year's, New Year's Eve

by StellarLibraryLady



Series: Star Trek Winter Holidays Series [17]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Dancing, Dancing Alone, Dancing By Oneself, Developing Relationship, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, First Dance, First Kiss, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Kissing at Midnight, M/M, New Year's Eve, New Year's Fluff, New Year's Kiss, New Years, Pining McCoy, Pre-Relationship, Protective Spock, Secret Crush, Secret love, Slow Dancing, song related
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-09-23 17:43:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17084822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StellarLibraryLady/pseuds/StellarLibraryLady
Summary: A pining McCoy is torturing himself about thoughts of Spock as he buries his longings in an old torch song.





	What Are You Doing New Year's, New Year's Eve

**Author's Note:**

> Happy New Year's to everyone! May the new year treat you kindly and bring all sorts of joys your way.

"Maybe it's much too early in the game  
Aah, but I thought I'd ask you just the same  
What are you doing New Year's  
New Year's Eve?

Wonder whose arms will hold you good and tight  
When it's exactly twelve o'clock that night  
Welcoming in the New Year  
New Year's Eve

Maybe I'm crazy to suppose  
I'd ever be the one you chose  
Out of a thousand invitations  
You received

Aah, but in case I stand one little chance  
Here comes the jackpot question in advance  
What are you doing New Year's  
New Year's Eve"

 

McCoy stood in his quarters, his eyes shut, his body gently swaying in time to the music that surrounded him like a warm security blanket.

“What are you doing New Year's  
New Year's Eve?”

The old torch song with its haunting lyrics fit his mood exactly. It was the first thing tonight that had felt right. Not even the society of his fellow crewmates had soothed his agitated thoughts. For he had fled the Captain’s New Year’s Eve party when he could stand the crowd no longer. All of that good cheer and camaraderie were getting to him. He needed solitude to drown his sorrows and longings. This was an ache that not even alcohol could soothe. He had tried it lately to no avail. All he'd gotten for his drunken binge was a terrible hangover and no relief for the Holiday blues.

What was it about the Holidays that eviscerated a person’s insides, especially a bleeding heart that one managed to keep hidden for most of the year from prying eyes or his own sensibilities? What was it about "This Most Wonderful Time Of The Year" that cut him to the quick and left his emotions torn and ruptured all around him?

He thought he'd managed to elude it this year. He'd almost made it....

And suddenly here he was, in the long, dark hours of New Year's Eve, staring it all in the face. The feelings of loss, the feelings of hopelessness, the feelings of unrequited love. And It was winning. And he was losing, losing, losing....

McCoy had grimly plowed his way through the "jolly, holly" days of Christmas, but he should have known that New Year’s was waiting in the wings to poleaxe him with its nostalgia, remorse, and regret. And it had hit him a solid blow to the midsection before he had quite seen it headed his way, and it had struck without mercy during that New Year's Eve party.

Of course, it didn’t help that he'd had a full view of that beautiful Vulcan during most of the evening. He'd made certain of that as he stood there with an untouched drink in his hand and a grim look on his face. Most people sensed his mood and left him alone. And that was just fine with McCoy. Solitude ensured that he could spend his attention on Spock.

And whenever he lost sight of Spock for a moment, McCoy would panic until he found him back in the crowded Day Room. There Spock stood in his dress uniform, regal and majestic, beautiful and serene, poised and supposedly articulate as he had apparently charmed one partygoer after another while McCoy had watched and yearned to be included in Spock's golden sphere. For Spock was magnificent that evening: a sight to behold, a god among mortals, a breathing example of all that is perfect in the universe.

And the stark truth was that all of that gorgeous package was so unobtainable for McCoy.

It wasn't as if McCoy didn't have Spock's attention. The fact of the matter was that he probably had more of Spock's attention than he really wanted. But, sadly, it was for all of the wrong reasons. And McCoy wanted Spock's attention for all of the right reasons. He wanted Spock to notice him as if they were more than friends and verbal sparring partners. McCoy wanted a closer relationship with Spock-- a more intimate one even, if you will-- as if they were something really special to each other.

He hadn't always felt that way. In fact, there were times, many times, when he didn't feel that way at all. But, damn it, he felt that way now and there was nothing more to do about the situation except to move forward! For McCoy, there wouldn't be any backtracking. McCoy swallowed a sigh. There couldn't be any backtracking, at least not for him. Spock was the guy he wanted now. And that was all there was to it. Whether it was a wise decision or not, he was committed. His longings might not ever be realized, but he was committed. At least it was something he was used to-- this suffering in silence-- with little prospects that his fondest dreams would come true.

McCoy could not say for certain when his longings for his nemesis had started. He had become conscious of a gradual awareness of Spock for a long time now, an awareness that had nothing to do with their bickering or their posturing around each other. Instead it seemed to have everything to do with how just damned beautiful the Vulcan looked in his clingy regulation uniform. McCoy's knowledge of anatomy and a good imagination were doing a good job of helping him to see just what a tempting morsel that Spock would look like without all of that confining clothing. And the picture that McCoy was receiving had nothing to do with how a doctor should be thinking of one of his friends, let alone one of his patients.

There were times that he would get so involved in personal thoughts about Spock that he lost the thread of what they had been discussing. Then he would see a frown of concern from Spock. Then McCoy began avoiding Spock because Spock's nearness but unavailability bothered McCoy, and McCoy's avoidance became so obvious that Spock's concerned look changed to one of hurt feelings. Oh, hell, McCoy hadn't intended that! So he isolated himself while he was in Spock's company, but he could tell that Spock thought that McCoy was angry with him or disappointed with, or something other than what McCoy was really thinking. McCoy couldn't win! He didn't want arguing or complications from Spock. He wanted time to dwell on that beautiful body so close to his, but still so untouchable. He wanted time to become better friends with Spock, not alienate him further. He wanted to become indispensable to Spock, not pushing him further away as he seemed to be doing now.

And there had been that one day and that one incident, that he did not want to remember at all. But it had happened. He'd felt like a rat afterwards. Still did, for that matter. But it had happened, and there was no taking it back. Because he had meant it. Damn it, he had meant it! No matter how hurt or puzzled that Spock had looked at him as McCoy had stomped away.

"Get a life, damn it!" he had lashed out in frustration at Spock. "Thaw out a little! Let people like you! I'm not saying that you have to wear a lampshade on your head or know the latest smutty joke or be the first one people think of as a party animal, but just let people in for once! You might find that you like them! And the more they might like you!"

The more McCoy thought about the Vulcan’s body, the more he wanted to be encased inside those marvelous arms and nestled up against that body so tightly that he could feel everything that Spock had to offer. And the two of them would be gently moving, as he was moving now, in time to some music that only they could hear. It didn’t matter what music, just so it was slow, just so the motion they created was causing an exquisite rubbing between their quivering bodies that were becoming more and more excited. And when they could stand the torture no longer, they would lie down and answer the call that all of that friction had caused to them. And the rest of the universe would fade away, and it would be just them, just them....

Yes, they would be dancing, dancing to music like this, music that was so haunting that it made a person want to weep for its beauty and curse the loneliness that it was making him feel. Such a pain! Such a beautiful, beautiful pain! And he wanted to torture himself with all of his self-pity.

Yes, they would be dancing to music just like this, and it would be, oh, so perfect. So very, very perfect.

McCoy raised his arms as if he was dancing with someone. He kept his eyes closed as he swayed to the slow music, but he smiled sweetly at his invisible partner who was pleasing him so much. He leaned forward and rubbed his cheek against an invisible shoulder, much as a cat rubs its head against the leg of a beloved master. Then McCoy nestled his face between the sturdy shoulder and the neck of his pleasing lover. He felt so beloved, and he hoped that he was making his invisible partner feel so beloved, too.

He would make Spock love him! He would be so good to him that Spock would never look at anyone else. He would make Spock wonder why he had never considered McCoy before as his lover. He would convince Spock that he should never look at anyone else again for love. All that McCoy needed was a chance! One lousy chance! And he would make Spock his forever!

McCoy heard a slight noise, a whisper of cloth, something out of the ordinary that shouldn't be. There was a sense that something else was in the room besides him and the haunting music that was enchanting him, and McCoy opened his eyes.

And stared straight into Spock’s dark eyes.

McCoy jerked, stopped dancing awkwardly, and continued to stare.

The haunting music played on, little realizing that everything had changed in an instant and that McCoy’s mood had been broken.

There wasn’t much for McCoy to stare at, outside of the beautiful Vulcan before him. For, even though Spock returned the stare, his face was noncommittal with maybe just the hint of withdrawn bemusement about it. Spock was doing his damned imitation of a corner post again and succeeding quite wonderfully at it, too, McCoy decided. But then, why should anything be different in that regard, he wondered. Just because he wanted things to be different between them, didn't mean that would be Spock's wish, also.

“I did chime your door, but you did not answer,” Spock finally explained. “So I used my passkey in case you could not answer.”

“No, just me being me,” McCoy mumbled as he turned aside. “Just me being a pain in the ass for you again.”

“And why do you say that you are being a pain in the posterior for me again?” Spock asked with a slight frown.

“Because one of my commanding officers has to check on me for my own good.”

“I did not wish for Jim to worry about your absence.”

“And was he worried?” McCoy asked, barely managing to keep the snarl out of his voice as he turned to face Spock again. He was suddenly tired of this whole conversation and just wanted the Vulcan to go away. Nothing was going to come from this discussion. At least nothing that he would like to happen. Might as well get Spock on his merry way as quickly as possible so McCoy could get back to feeling lonely and sorry for himself.

“He did not appear to be worried,” Spock admitted. “He and Mr. Scott were organizing some sort of drinking competition. I doubt if either one will be awake to see the new year in by the amount of alcoholic beverages they have each consumed. And I believe that it is their immediate plan to consume a great deal more before the New Year begins.”

“And you probably figured that I should be the third one in that great guzzling contest, didn’t you?!” McCoy snarled.

Spock looked puzzled. “No, but it did cause me to search for you. That is when I thought that it was odd that you were no longer present.”

“I’m surprised that you noticed,” McCoy muttered. “You’ve been such a social butterfly all evening.”

“Doctor,” Spock started in the tone of voice that sounded like a gentle reproof. How could he not know that McCoy hated its mocking sound so much? “It is the responsibility of the officers to mingle at parties with the enlisted personnel. It helps to present the feeling of equality in the ranks, if only for a little while and in only a small measure.”

“The world’s been turned upside down at long last,” McCoy sighed. “Spock knows etiquette, and I don’t. And on top of it, I did another social no-no by leaving the party early. Bad McCoy. Bad!”

“I did not come here to reprimand you, simply to ascertain for myself that you were suffering no ill effects of the evening.”

“No, just the time of the year,” McCoy said to himself.

“Doctor?” Spock asked with a frown.

“Nothing. Nothing that needs to concern you any.”

“But it does.”

McCoy smiled without mirth. “Back to making those below you in rank feeling equal again? If only for a little while and in only a small measure?” he mocked.

Spock heard the acid in McCoy's remark and steeled himself. He could not let the small licks of anger he felt interfere with his peace of mind. Of all the men whom Spock knew, McCoy could come closest to making him lose his temper. And Spock must never do that! He mustn’t! It would be reverting back to his savage forebearers, and he must not sink to those heathen levels. He must not! 

“I came to check on a friend.”

That surprised McCoy. Spock could see it in McCoy’s face. Truth be told, Spock had surprised himself with his answer to McCoy.

“Oh, well, thank you,” McCoy flustered. “That was very considerate of you to do,” he finally manged to conclude. At least he could come up with the social niceties, if needed. Thank goodness that Southern grace and manners were ingrained in him. 

But McCoy realized that he needed to make his thanks be more, and it had nothing to do with his crush on Spock.

"And thank you for considering me to be your friend."

Spock frowned in thought. "Of course we are friends, Leonard. I thought that you understood that."

Of course McCoy understood it. But some perverted part of him wanted to hear Spock say it again. Hadn't he waited long enough to get any sort of personal acknowledgement from the Vulcan? Couldn't he savor it for just a little while longer?

But McCoy also knew it was wrong to force Spock to admit to emotions he tried to suppress. "I didn't know for sure...." He let his voice trail away from his obvious lie.

"Then it is my fault for not making it perfectly clear."

McCoy could stand it no longer. He couldn't make Spock belittle himself anymore.

"It's okay, Commander. I do understood what you're saying. Don't worry about it. Everything's fine between us."

Spock relaxed with McCoy's reassurances. He really wanted a good relationship with McCoy. "I appreciate what you have just told me, Doctor. Your behavior lately indicated that there was some trouble between us." He saw McCoy draw in breath to speak. "And I would like to make amends if I have wronged you in any way," Spock rushed on before McCoy could stop him.

"It's nothing you've done. It's me." McCoy shrugged. "Just me being me."

"May I help in some way?"

If only Spock knew! Physical want roared through McCoy. He could blurt out his hidden desires and hope for the best, but he might lose Spock's friendship with anything done too hastily even though his whole body was straining to grab Spock up against himself. "Just let me get passed these damned holidays. Then maybe I can be my old self again."

"This time of year of year affects many people adversely."

McCoy smirked. "You can say that again."

“I am sorry to have interrupted your private time. If I would have known that all was well with you, I would not have entered your quarters without your invitation."

McCoy shrugged. "Don't worry about that, either. I would've done the same thing."

Spock looked relieved. "Thank you for understanding." Then he got brave enough to continue. "I also have confessions to make."

McCoy frowned. "You? Confessions? You'd have to do something wrong before you can confess to it, and I doubt if your code of honor would allow that."

Spock winced. "I do not intend to act so unnaturally."

"And I should not have made it sound like a code of honor was an unrealistic way to live. I know that you are trying to bend a little."

"Yes, I am. That is what I wished to confess," he said with a hint of pride in his voice.

"Oh? And what would that be?" A grin tickled McCoy's lips as his eyes softened with warmth.

"I have been trying to take your advice to be more open with people. More gregarious, even."

McCoy tried to imagine what a gregarious Spock would be like, but not even McCoy's keen sense of humor and an active imagination could help him out with that kind of image.

"That is what I was doing this evening when you noted that I was being a social butterfly. I was trying to act the way that you recommended."

McCoy blinked. "You were doing that? Because of me?"

"Yes. I wanted you to think well of me. I know that you are trying to help me to fit in better in social situations. And I wish to tell you that you were right. I found that I was enjoying myself very much. And people were responding to me in ways which they never had before. I wish to thank you for your good advice. It has been very helpful."

McCoy felt guilty. "Don't do it just because I said so. If it doesn't feel natural, ditch it."

"I do not understand," Spock said, puzzled. "I thought a change in me was what you wanted."

If only McCoy could say out loud what was thundering through his mind and heart. I want you, damn it! You! Changed or unchanged! I don't care now, just so it's you!

"I just thought that it would help you," McCoy replied, finding a safer answer that was nonetheless true.

"It does." Spock thought a moment. "You know, I believe that we are compromising, are we not?"

McCoy didn't even try to stop his weary grin. "I do believe that we are at that. Maybe we can do more of that in the new year, alright?"

"Will that be our New Year's resolution, Doctor?"

"Among others," McCoy murmured, then hoped that Spock did not question him on what he meant.

But Spock was on a different tack. "When I came in, it looked like you were dancing,” he said gently, hoping that he did not rile up McCoy with what McCoy might interpret as an accusation. "Your face seemed wistful and thoughtful, though. Are you sad for some reason?"

McCoy’s hand rose and fell listlessly at his side as he indicated the song that was playing on a continuous loop. “It’s the song. A holiday song.”

“There was dancing at the Captain’s party. You could have danced there. Surely you could have found a willing partner.”

McCoy shook his head. “Too many people.”

“Is there one too many now?”

McCoy frowned as he studied Spock. He could get rid of him so easily. Things could go on as they had always been between them. And McCoy could nurse his broken heart in silence.

A chance with Spock. Wasn’t that what he had been wanting just a few moments ago? A chance? And now he was on the brink of dashing his own opportunity?

McCoy breathed deeply for courage.

“The number of people in my quarters is just exactly perfect,” McCoy choked out.

Spock’s face seemed to mellow into a gentle smile. “That is what I was thinking, also.”

McCoy just managed to stop himself from blinking in surprise and from shouting what he was thinking.

Wow! Hallelujah!

“Would you care to dance with me, Doctor? After all, there is some wonderful music going to waste. And it is New Year’s Eve, the time for sentiment and dancing and remembering times gone by.”

McCoy realized that Spock was babbling. Spock did not babble. He was always so sure of himself. But he was babbling now. He must be extremely nervous about something right now. And McCoy also realized that he was the only thing that Spock could be nervous about.

Somehow, that gave McCoy a shot of courage. And it also made him like the Vulcan a little bit more, too. This evening just kept getting better and better.

McCoy smiled. “It would be my honor, Mr. Spock.”

McCoy raised his arms and felt Spock’s body close around him just the way he had dreamed it would. As they began to sway to the soft music, McCoy could feel every inch of Spock plastered against him. It was a strange sensation, being vibrantly aware of Spock and yet feeling numb because he was where he had wished so long to be.

He smiled up at the partner who was leading him so gently, yet so surely. He rubbed his face against the sturdy shoulder, then nestled his face between it and Spock’s neck. McCoy sighed. That spot was just as comfortable as he always thought that it would be, and it fit his head perfectly.

“It is nearly midnight, Leonard,” Spock said softly.

“Uh huh,” McCoy mumbled, lost in his own world. Then it struck him what Spock said and maybe what he was hinting at. McCoy looked up. “Yeah, only about ten minutes to go now.”

Then would they kiss as they saw the New Year in together?

McCoy’s heart leaped with that hope. He knew that his eyes must’ve widened with interest.

Kissing! Together! Seeing the New Year in together… with a kiss!

How could McCoy possibly broach THAT topic, he wondered.

Spock’s eyes twinkled. “You seem agitated, Doctor.”

McCoy shrugged. “It's the New Year approaching. New challenges. New problems. All that.”

And kissing! The prospect of kissing! The prospect of kissing Spock! In the new future! Forget the rest of what the new year would have to offer! McCoy was concerned with the next few minutes!

“I could help to relieve your agitation before it becomes too much of a problem.”

“How in blue blazin’ hell do you propose to do that?!” McCoy snorted out before he could stop himself.

Spock’s eyes really twinkled. “We could practice how we are going to see in the New Year together.”

McCoy’s smile slowly spread as Spock’s lips neared his. “Damn it, Vulcan. I like the way you think,” he murmured.

“I thought you would, Doctor,” Spock managed to murmur back. He seemed as interested in McCoy's lips as McCoy was in his.

"I'm ready to practice now if you are," McCoy hinted. And wonder of wonders, Spock made no objection. Then McCoy could wait no longer as his lips bore down on Spock’s. Then it was all he could do to hang onto Spock as their passion grabbed them both up and tossed them around in the sheer joy of their mutual discovery.

They even forgot to wish each other a happy New Year. They were much too busy with other activities. As the New Year awaited to make its grand appearance, clock countdowns concerned everyone on the Enterprise. Everyone, that is, except the two guys locked in each others' arms in McCoy's quarters. And neither one was particularly interested in clocks, or the time, at that moment. Just each other and all of that delicious kissing.

Who knew where it might lead to next? Wherever it might be, McCoy was eager to go. And he'd make damn certain that the Vulcan kept right up with him.

But he was beginning to think that Spock might be setting the pace before long. He seemed to be a quick study of what McCoy was showing him already. McCoy suspected that Spock might even have some moves of his own. And wherever those moves might lead them, McCoy was not going to be stopping Spock any. As McCoy's old Georgia uncle used to say, "Never holler 'Whoa!' in a horserace!" McCoy was ready to see this horserace home to the finish line. Hard telling what might happen when they were finally alone in the stable.

"Oh, let's get together New Year's  
New Year's Eve."

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing of Star Trek, its characters, and/or its story lines. I also own nothing of the song "What Are You Doing New Years" nor do I represent any of the artists who have recorded it.


End file.
